It Sneaks Up on You
by Voyfan2
Summary: Who knew that miniature golf and TV nights could lead to a romance?
1. Chapter 1

Kathryn sighed and leaned her head on the couch. Finally, Saturday evening. A hell of a week.

On Monday, she'd sent Tom, Mike and Sam down to a promising — and supposedly uninhabited —planet to look for anything usable. Apparently someone else had staked a claim; a half-dozen raiders swooped in and attacked the shuttle on takeoff.

Tom got the worst of it. He managed to get the ship in the air, then collapsed. Mike had to drag him out of the seat so that he could get the crippled Flyer close enough to snag with a tractor beam.

She'd gone to Sick Bay … Mike and Sam weren't seriously hurt. But her heart sank when she saw Tom, bloody and still, on the biobed.

"Can he hear me?" she'd asked. The Doctor was about to make an acerbic comment when he realized Kathryn was a shade paler than usual.

"I believe so," he said. "Just stay out of the way, please."

She leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Thomas Eugene, don't you dare leave us. I want you at the helm when we get home."

No response. The Doctor motioned for her to move, so she patted Tom's arm and left.

**XXX**

"Doctor to Janeway."

"Yes, Doctor," she answered, trying to remember if she'd dodged another appointment.

"I'd like to ask a favor. I've released Mr. Paris to his quarters, but someone should check on him. He's been rather subdued."

"I noticed that," she agreed, though he'd seem to brighten at her quick visits. "Has B'Elanna been down to see him?" The rumor mill had it that the Paris-Torres relationship was on the rocks again.

"No," The Doctor said quietly. And Harry was on night shift, she realized.

"I'll drop by," she said.

She was a bit nervous as she rang the chime: she seldom visited anyone's quarters.

The door slid open. He was on the couch, his injured leg propped on the coffee table. "No, no, don't get up," she said, waving him back down.

"I see you got the memo on the dress code," he joked. They were both going casual: exercise pants and sweatshirts, hers from the Academy, his with a cartoon photo of a rocket ship — Captain Proton's?

She perched on the couch next to him. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "I hurt, but I'm glad to be out of Sick Bay." He raised an eyebrow. "Did the Doc send you?"

"Yes," she admitted, "but I planned to check in anyway. Had dinner?"

He shook his head. "Nothing sounds good."

She thought for a moment. "How about ham on rye? My treat."

"You don't have to ..." he began. "Hey, _I_ missed dinner," she interrupted as she moved to the replicator. "Deli style OK?" she asked as she brought him a stacked sandwich with a dill pickle, plus a plate of fries to share.

"Oh, man, I can smell that mustard … Petroff's?" he asked appreciatively. A favorite Sunday-night haunt of Academy cadets.

"Of course," she smirked as she replicated a couple of sodas, bottles and all.

"What do you watch on this thing?" she asked, nodding at the TV.

"Right now, mid-20th century comedies," he said, clicking on the machine. "This one's called 'I Love Lucy.'"

**XXX**

"That _was_ funny," she said, still chuckling at the end of the last show. "Though I'm not sure I understand the social mores of that time."

"Maybe I should find some shows from the 1990s, see if they match what we remember."

"That would be interesting," she admitted, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Oh, sorry, it's late. You're probably on duty in the morning."

"No, Sunday's a day off, or at least not on the bridge." She considered. "I promised Neelix I would help out in the hydroponics bay. Want to come?"

"I don't know much about gardening."

"You think I do? If it's too much, I can use you as an excuse to leave." She gave him one of her lopsided grins, and he couldn't help but agree.

**XXX**

Tom actually did quite well, though both Kathryn and Neelix refused to let him lift hampers. As thanks, Neelix gave them several tomatoes, and snipped some lettuce, too.

"I have a saucepan. We'd have to replicate some things, but I think we could whip up a decent pasta sauce and a small salad if you're interested," he said on the way back.

"I'm not much of a cook," she admitted.

He smiled at her fondly. "I can cook a little; at least I won't poison us."

After dinner, they sat back with glasses of wine. "Like westerns?" he asked as he fiddled with the TV.

"Not those gory ones Harry was talking about."

"Certainly not after dinner," he teased. "I think I can find something more uplifting."

**XXX**

The day Tom returned to duty, she casually made her way over to the helm. "Welcome back. I see laughter is the best medicine. Or is it gunfights at high noon?"

He glanced up at her and chuckled. She just laughed and squeezed his shoulder, and ignored Chakotay's frown as she went back to her chair.


	2. Of TV Nights and Golf

Saturday afternoon; Alpha shift had left, and she was reading reports when the comm line buzzed: text only.

"_I found police shows in the archives. Pizza and beer on the menu. Interested? _

_Casual dress. Note: other folks may drop by._

— _T"_

Should she? On the other hand, it's not like she had anything planned.

"_Save me a slice. Any stouts on the beer menu? _

— _KJ"_

Neelix and Harry were there when she arrived, followed by the Delaney twins. Tom wouldn't let her donate rations. "It's my turn to buy dinner," he murmured. "And you're the first woman I've ever known to drink stout." She just smirked at him as she took the bottle.

It was a fun evening; she just sat back and watched her crew enjoy themselves, though she noted that Tom steered the conversation away from the ship or ship's gossip.

It was also a rather cozy evening; the TV screen was relatively small, so everyone had to huddle around the couch. By the end of the night, she realized she'd been sitting against Tom's leg. He didn't seem to mind. She didn't mind, either.

**XXX**

"I hear you joined in TV night over the weekend," Chakotay murmured, just loud enough for Tom to hear at the helm.

She didn't like his tone of voice, but decided to be casual about it. "Yes, interesting to note that the plots are basically the same." She looked over at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "Though I don't think Neelix and 'The Streets of San Francisco' are a good mix." Harry grinned and ducked his head to hide his laughter; Tom's shoulders were shaking; Chakotay just looked confused.

"He kept asking where Starfleet Headquarters was located and why no one was using shuttles or phasers. It didn't sink in that this show took place, oh, 200 years before the Federation was established," she explained.

"Poor Jenny had to keep ducking into the bathroom to laugh," Harry said, chuckling.

Kathryn just smiled, then glanced over at her first officer. "And by the way, what's said on the bridge, stays on the bridge, Commander," she said lightly.

Chakotay nodded, definitely feeling outflanked.

**XXX**

Friday evening, and Kathryn grimaced as she took a sip of her now-cold coffee. She poured it into the recycler and was about to replicate another cup when her vid buzzed.

"_Come by the holodeck? I have a new program that I'd like your opinion on. Might help you overcome your fear of golf. P.S. There's food._

— _T."_

She had to chuckle; a recent discussion of sports on the bridge turned to golf, and she admitted that she'd never understood the game.

"_You know, Lieutenant, I don't recall saying that I was afraid of golf. But I'll come down to see what you're up to."_

— _K"_

She was confronted by a strange sight. A series of what looked like putting greens … many with banks or small hills … others with tubes, bridges and an ancient windmill, for heaven's sake. Tom leaned casually on a putter, openly laughing at her reaction.

"What on Earth?"

"Miniature golf," he said, swinging the putter up to his shoulder. "Brand name Putt-Putt. A craze during the 20th and into the 21st centuries."

"Those don't look like any putting greens I've ever seen. What's with the windmill?"

"Ah! The object _is_ to putt the ball into the hole; but first you have to get around, over or through the obstacles. Oh, and this is a Par 3 course, so you have to do it in three strokes."

"You've got to be kidding!"

"You know, this is a bit like pool. Part of the strategy is knowing how to bank your shots."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow and looked over the course as she considered his words. Then she gave him that grin.

"Well, now, why didn't you say so, Mr. Paris," she teased in a fake Irish brogue. "Have another one of those putters?"

"I created one for you. But I have a feeling you're going to make me regret this."

**XXX**

The evening after the crew received the first letters from home, Tom walked down to the holodecks. The ship was quiet: people were either grieving or celebrating in their quarters.

He found the program he was looking for: Lake George – CKJ. The privacy lock wasn't on, so he slipped in.

The cabin was illuminated by moonlight; he could hear the night sounds of insects and the lapping of the lake around the dock. In the yard, a line of Adirondack chairs faced the lake; the sole occupant revealed by the glow from the fire pit.

She turned at the sound of the door. "Wasn't expecting company."

"I can leave, if you'd prefer."

"No," she said waving a hand toward a chair. "Better I don't drink alone."

He poured a drink from the bottle on the table and sniffed the contents. "Where did you get real Irish whiskey?"

"Captain's privilege," she quipped.

"Quite a day," she said as he settled into the chair next to her. "I heard about the Maquis. Did you lose anyone?"

"I knew some of them slightly. B'Elanna, Mike … they're all taking it hard."

Kathryn nodded. "Grief and survivor's guilt …." she shook her head, and Tom realized that she was speaking from experience. "I'd stopped thinking of everyone in terms of Starfleet or Maquis," she continued. "You're all my crew. But then something like this hits us in the face."

They fell silent again, and Tom gathered his courage.

"I heard about your fiance. I'm sorry," he finally said.

Her gaze shifted back to the lake. "I expected it, but to get that letter …" She took another drink. "It's just as well that I put off the wedding. At least I don't have to start a divorce petition."

"Why would you have done that?"

"Because I couldn't … wouldn't leave him in limbo," she said, more firmly now. "I know Voyager will get home. But I know there's a chance I won't, or that I would be very old by the time we did. I didn't want him to waste a lifetime waiting for … for someone who is no longer the woman he proposed to."

She tilted her head back and looked over at him. "Did you get anything from your family?"

He shrugged. "It didn't get through in time. Just as well, since I suspect that my father wouldn't turn down a chance to tell me what a screw-up I am."

Kathryn sat up in a flash, grabbing his hand before he could react. "I don't believe that," she said as her eyes bored into his. "But even if it is true, this is the beginning of contact with Starfleet. We'll be sending information home. He's going to find out what a good officer you are. What a good _man_ you are. And if that doesn't do it, I'll find a way to make him understand."

He looked down quickly, blinking furiously to hide the tears that were forming. When he could trust himself, he looked up at her. "Thank you," he whispered. "That means a great deal to me."

Kathryn's features softened, and he could almost feel the wave of affection from her. "It's the truth," she whispered back. Her hand loosened; he turned his so that their palms touched and laced his fingers through hers. She smiled slightly before she settled back in her chair.

They spent the rest of the evening holding hands, just watching the moonlight dance on the lake.


	3. The Very Long Week

The view from the lodge's patio deck was lovely, and Kathryn gladly breathed in the crisp winter air … a reminder of home.

Kohlin was one of the most hospitable planets they'd found in the quadrant. Friendly and welcoming to visitors, their officials were more than happy to negotiate trade. They were meeting at a lodge in a quaint mountain resort town … reminiscent of old Switzerland, or perhaps one of the ski towns in the North American Rockies.

It was a wonderful respite, with only one problem. The person she most wanted to share it with wasn't here.

She'd hoped the week away would help her sort out her deepening feelings for Tom. That kiss they'd shared in the holodeck had left her exhilarated … until she got that nudge from her inner Captain, reminding her of protocol.

But this turned out to be the longest week of her life. She missed him terribly, and it took every ounce of willpower not to hit her comm badge every time she saw or heard something he'd enjoy.

Talking to him at night wasn't an option, either. Even private comms from the planet were logged; someone might wonder just _why_ she she needed a nightly chat with her helmsman.

Funny thing, she mused. She could use protocol to keep Chakotay at arm's length, but Tom …

"_Who knew you could fall for someone over 20__th__ century mini golf and TV?" she mused. "Damn you Tom Paris, you snuck up on me."_

_**XXX**_

Finally, a break from Sick Bay duty, and Tom was heading down to the planet for an evening visit.

He'd been restless all week, and not just because he wasn't at the helm; the other pilots could keep the ship in geosynchronous orbit without his help. On what little off time he'd had, he'd tried the holodeck, tried watching TV. Nothing worked.

He knew why: Kathryn was away, and he was slowly going crazy. He wanted to hear her voice; he wanted to feel her touch; hell, what he really wanted was to kiss her senseless, just like he had on the holodeck.

He tried to find a way to comm her "off the logs," but had no luck. Besides, he didn't know her schedule: She'd be beyond pissed if he interrupted a meeting.

He saw Tuvok leaving the transporter room. This was a good sign: negotiations must have ended early. Kathryn may be free for the evening.

"Not staying to see the sights, Tuvok?" he called.

"No, while I appreciate the landscape, the climate does not suit my physiology," he said. "The Captain, however, has indicated that she will 'see the sights' tonight."

He got the idea that the Vulcan was trying to tell him something. "Is that a problem?"

"From a security standpoint, I am always concerned when a senior officer is off the ship unaccompanied. Particularly when that officer is the Captain."

He was beginning to get the picture. Chakotay wasn't available: according to the rumor mill, he'd found a blonde, perhaps two, to enjoy the scenery with.

"Well, I'm going down for dinner; I'll keep an eye out for her," he offered, not mentioning that was his plan all along.

Something in Tuvok's eyes relaxed. "Thank you, Mr. Paris."

**XXX**

Fortunately, the transporter deposited him just off the main street; a discreet check of his tricorder showed that Kathryn was indeed nearby. He found her near the entrance of an art gallery, looking over some small paintings. He just watched as she perused them, a slight frown marking her concentration.

She must have sensed she was being watched. She looked up warily, her gaze shifting quickly until it fell on him. She beamed, obviously delighted to see him; seeing that unguarded look filled his heart. He was grinning as he went to her side.

"Hello there," she said, lightly touching his arm; it felt warm, even through his coat. He stepped close and unobtrusively spread his hand across the small of her back. She shifted slightly into his touch.

"Hello yourself. Buying something for the Ready Room?"

"Actually, it's for my sister. I think she'd appreciate the technique, and the composition of the paint is unusual, too. Which one do you like?"

He swallowed; once again, her unwavering belief that they'd get home left him humbled. He pointed to a scene that he liked and she chuckled in approval.

They strolled, her package in hand. "So, what have you been doing?"

"Setting bones in Sick Bay. I finally got a full evening off, so I came down to find you."

"I'm glad you did," she said as she looped her arm through his and pulled him close. They chatted — mostly about the accident rate among those who had tried the Kohlins' version of snowboarding.

"Sounds dangerous."

He shrugged. "From what I've heard, the folks who got hurt started on the steeper runs."

They found a small restaurant and took a table toward the back. He helped with her coat, noting that her black trousers and soft, rust-colored tunic sweater certainly complemented her figure.

She noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Shopping?" he asked innocently.

"I don't have a lot of winter clothing; and the uniform is conspicuous. The lodge has a nice clothing store, so I treated myself."

"You should do that more often," he teased.

She looped her arm through his again as they left. "The Kohlins are very fond of live music," she remarked. "The Doctor and I found a bar the other night that has performers. Want to stop by?"

"Sounds good," he agreed. Actually, she could have suggested an opera performance by trained seals; he'd of gone just to be with her.

Kathryn was just about to open the door when he caught a glimpse inside. She gave him a dirty look as he pulled her back; he nodded toward the window. Inside was Voyager's first officer, looking very, very cozy with two blondes.

"Oops," Kathryn murmured as they beat a retreat. "That could have been awkward."

As they looked for another bar, he wondered if she was at all distressed about seeing Chakotay with … well, two other women. But to his relief, it didn't seem to faze her. They found another place … rather crowded, but they squeezed into a cozy corner table, so close that she was practically sitting on his lap, and enjoyed a drink and some music … and he finally managed to get in a few quick kisses.

Afterward, there was an awkward moment when they looked at each other; he could tell she was weighing a particular decision, and he held his breath.

"Is there a specific transport site?" she finally asked.

He shook his head. "Barton said to just hail him; he'd find me."

She gave him that grin. "Let's go to the lodge then; there's a lovely view from the back balcony."

Once there, she led him to a quiet spot behind some potted foliage, away from the main room. The valley below was beautiful, with the night sky contrasted against the lights below.

"These are the things that make up for all the hell we go though," she said.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, "and so are you."

He wasn't sure who started it, but they began to kiss each other hungrily. His coat was open, and he managed to undo hers so he could pull her close against him. She arched into him, moaning a bit as his hands slid down her body. He was about to suggest going to her room when a beep sounded from his coat pocket.

"Damn!" he swore as she pulled back and looked at him, puzzled. "Alarm. Curfew in 20 minutes."

She threw her head back and laughed, and he joined her. "Well aren't we are a couple of teenagers," she said when she could catch her breath. "I suspect Tuvok is looking for a porch light to turn on."

He laughed, and they kissed again. "Let's do something about your shore leave," she said. "If you don't have other plans ..." he gave her an _Are you kidding? _look, and she laughed. "I'd like to try that snowboarding … among other things."

He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss. "As much as I'd like to keep you tonight, I can't," she murmured as she quickly wiped traces of lipstick off his face and neck. "Now, go before you're late," she said, squeezing his hands before she stepped back.

He looked at her with regret. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Back on Voyager, he queried the computer as to Tuvok's whereabouts, then tapped his com badge.

"I thought you'd like to know that I did see the captain this evening, and that she's safely back at the lodge."

"I am gratified to hear that; thank you again, Lieutenant."

**XXX **

She looked rather chipper on the vid during the morning staff meeting. Tuvok was with her.

"We wrap negotiations today; supplies will be delivered tonight through tomorrow morning."

"We should be ready to leave by the end of tomorrow," Chakotay replied.

"Make that Sunday afternoon," she said to Chakotay's puzzled frown. "I _am_ taking my shore leave. Tuvok has volunteered to help you oversee the movement of supplies."

"Oh, of course," he replied.

"Has everyone had full shore leave who wants it?"

"I believe so."

"Er, actually, I haven't," Tom interrupted. He shrugged at Chakotay's dirty look. "Too busy with broken legs."

Janeway raised an eyebrow at her first officer. "Let's make sure Mr. Paris gets a chance to break a leg if he wishes, starting at end of Alpha shift today. And check the rotation to make sure that no one else has been left out; we don't get many of these opportunities."

Chakotay swallowed. "Should we allow crew down for evening visits this weekend?"

"No. You're going to be busy; we did very well with trading. I also suspect everyone is out of credits by now."

**XXX**

"Janeway to Paris." The sound of her voice nearly made him drop that tray of instruments.

"Paris here," he replied, trying not to sound too eager.

"How's Sick Bay today?"

Hmm … must be on the private channel, he decided.

"Quiet. The Doc's deactivated himself for a bit, so it's just me," he said.

"Good," she said, her voice warming. "I have about two minutes before my last meeting. I'll be at the transporter site at 1700, so we can discuss our plans for Saturday."

"And plans for tonight?"

She chuckled. "We can discuss those, too. Need to go. Janeway out."

**XXX**

Tom nodded appreciatively at Ensign Barton's tips about finding a cheap room at the lodge. If last night was any indication, he knew where he'd be staying; still, having a plausible cover story wouldn't hurt.

"Mr. Paris ..." Tuvok's call interrupted Barton's monologue. "I apologize for delaying your departure," he began. Tom quickly mouthed, "_That's all right."_

Tuvok just raised an eyebrow. "If I might ask: during your visit, would you, as you say, keep an eye out?"

"Actually, I'll see her tonight," he said quietly. "She wants to make plans to go snowboarding." An edited version, but still the truth.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow again. "Indeed. Well, I wish you a pleasant, and safe, shore leave, Lieutenant."

Tom grabbed his bag and bounded up on the transport pad, "Time's a wasting, Tim. See you Sunday."

**XXX**

She was waiting for him, casually leaning against a tree, just out of sight of anyone on the street. He dropped his bag and picked her up for a quick spin, ending with a searing kiss.

"I wondered if you were ever going to get here; someone keeping you on the ship?" she finally asked when they came up for air.

"Barton had some lodging tips," which brought a smirk in response. "And Tuvok asked if I would keep an eye out for you."

"Good thing he can't deal with the cold; otherwise he'd be spoiling my evening," she remarked as she took his hand.

"He seems very concerned for your safety."

"Technically, I shouldn't be alone here. But I've not had any trouble, and I do take precautions."

"Well, caution is a good thing," Tom allowed. "But not to worry, Captain Proton will protect you," he said teasingly, bringing a snort from her.

"So, do you want to get dinner?" he asked hopefully.

The answering gleam in her eye was positively wicked. "I think you might want to drop off your bag," she murmured as she squeezed his hand. "And actually, room service is pretty good … and _always_ available."


	4. We Didn't Lie About Everything

The Commander was in a foul mood this morning, Tuvok noted as he cataloged supplies. "No need to hurry on this, Tuvok," he'd said earlier. "We're going to be waiting around anyway."

"The captain has put in long hours with these negotiations," he'd remarked. "And humans do need time for, as you put it, 'R&R.'"

"I'm sure she's found a way to relax," he growled.

Tuvok made no reply, but it was obvious that the Commander was, as humans put it, pouting.

Chakotay's behavior on Kohlin had spurred a good deal of gossip on the ship, with some speculation that he was trying to make the Captain jealous. It certainly was no secret that he was annoyed by the Captain's growing closeness to her helmsman. Knowing that she was off-world, likely with Mr. Paris, had to rankle.

As for the Captain, he personally believed that the relationship was good for her; by nature, Kathryn Janeway was not a solitary person.

It was entirely possible that she and Mr. Paris would indulge in more than snowboarding this weekend, he realized. But fraternization issues were not his concern right now: The Captain's insistence on remaining alone on Kohlin had made him profoundly uneasy. So from a security standpoint, taking Tom Paris to her bed might be the safest thing she could do.

**XXX**

"You are really good at this," Tom told her after they finished their last snowboarding run.

"Why, thank you, sir," she said, winding her arms around his neck "You were an excellent coach."

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly. He suspected it had been a long time since Kathryn had enjoyed such affection, and she was reveling in it. He'd been a little surprised at her willingness to kiss him in public, but then he realized that everyone who knew them was back on the ship. The Kohlians didn't care: those couples seemed to be just as affectionate, so they fit right in.

"So, do you want dinner, or would you rather go back to the room and have a nap?" he whispered suggestively as they turned in their boards. She gave him that wicked grin …

"Kathryn!" The voice startled both of them. Tom looked up to see a Kohlian woman approaching them, smiling broadly.

Kathryn turned and visibly relaxed. "Margite!"

"I'm so happy to see you. I thought you were leaving today."  
"I decided to take the day off and try snowboarding," Kathryn said.

"Good for you! And I see your husband was able to join you," Margite said, giving Tom an appreciative look.

"I'm Tom," he offered as they shook hands. Kathryn managed to keep a straight face. "Margite is the First Minister's chief of staff," she explained. "She was my liaison during negotiations this week."

"You know, my husband's here, too," Margite enthused. "Why don't you join us for dinner? The restaurant here is very good, and I know he'd love to meet you both. I've been telling him how much I enjoyed working with you."

"Well, we _were_ just talking about dinner," Tom said as he slipped his arm around Kathryn.

"_Oh, what the hell ..." Kathryn thought._ "Margite, we'd be delighted to join you."

**XXX**

"They were very nice folks," Tom said later. "I had a great time at dinner." What he really enjoyed was the normalcy of the evening: two couples enjoying dinner and conversation; no uniforms, no pips, no protocol …

"It was fun, but it certainly rivaled any of those comedies on your TV. Margite is a wonderful person and I feel terrible about lying to her."

"We didn't lie about everything."

"Well, no, just one big thing. By the way, why did you say that we met when I sprung you from prison?"

"Well, I couldn't say that we really met when I was 12. That sounded bad. But you saying I was on an intelligence mission at the prison was absolutely inspired," He chuckled. "Of course, _you_ were the one who told her we were newlyweds."

"Well, she asked how long we'd been married; that was the best I could come up with on the fly. We _did_ get a nice present, even though I feel guilty about taking it." Margite and her husband had insisted on stopping at a nearby shop to buy them a bottle of wine. "A token of our friendship, and a belated wedding present," she told them.

"What I can't figure," Tom said, pulling her into his arms, "is why she thought I was your husband. Did you tell her you were married?"

"No, I didn't. Maybe it was a translation issue. I told her I had someone special back on the ship and I missed him very much."

"Well, I missed you too, Mrs. Paris," he whispered before kissing her.

Much later, he gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, stroking over the gold band on her right hand. "By the way, _is_ this your grandmother's wedding ring, or were you just finessing Margite?"

She smiled softly. "It was my great-grandmother's. Daddy gave it to me when I turned 16."

"It's very nice," he said, then realized he may have made a major faux pas. "Uh ... that wasn't supposed to be ..."

She arched an eyebrow. "My wedding ring?" she asked "No. Justin and I hadn't gotten that far. Mark was set on matching bands." She smiled gently as she contemplated the band. "I suppose it's just as well. It only carries good memories now."

**XXX**

Tom stared out the window at the mountains, not really seeing them. He paced a bit, trying to push back the feeling of dread that had settled over him.

Not that the day had started off badly. Kathryn had again found a delightful way to wake him up, and he'd interrupted their breakfast in bed to return the favor.

But now, with their bags packed and their return to Voyager looming …

Kathryn bustled in, adjusting her sweater as she walked. "Let's stop at that bakery ..." She stopped and looked at him, puzzled. "Something wrong?"

"Maybe," he said as he sat down on the couch. "We're going back to the ship in a couple of hours."

"I wish we could stay longer, too."

He took a breath. "So is this where you tell me that this was a one-time thing? That we can't continue once we get back on Voyager … I mean … if it is, I understand. I promise to keep my mouth shut."

She sighed and sat next to him, then took his face in her hands and kissed him. "Relax; if this week has proved anything, it's that I can't let go of you. So you're stuck with me. But we do need to agree on a few things."

She smiled gently as she watched understanding … and relief … dawn on his face.

"Oh, like keeping my mouth shut?" he managed to joke.

"Well, yes, please," she teased, then sobered a bit. "Look, you need to understand, it's "all-in" with me. I prefer sex as part of a full, exclusive relationship. So if you have any hope, any intentions of going back to B'Elanna, please tell me now. And given what I just said, please don't entertain any ideas about juggling us."

He looked horrified. "Do I look like I want to get myself killed?"

"No," she said evenly, "and I don't, either. And you _would_ have to hide from both of us, which could be difficult."

"Look, there isn't anyone else. B'Elanna and I are just friends; we've been over for quite a while." He gave her that mischievous grin. As for 'all-in,' well, you and I _are_ married, remember?"

"Oh, let's step back from _that_ idea."

"Hey, _you're_ the one telling people that we're newlyweds."

She gave him a look. "You announce _that_ on the ship, and we both know who's going to kill you," she warned.

He just gave her that grin. "He'll just have to deal with the fact that you're taken."

"You are going to be trouble, aren't you?" she said affectionately.

"You knew that when you started with me," he chuckled and pulled her into his lap.

She sighed and settled against him. "We can't exactly shout this in the Mess Hall."

He chuckled. "We'll just hide in plain sight."

"How's that?"

"Well, it's no secret that you come over for TV night, and that we might be found on the holodeck. We just keep doing those things; if the crew sees us in social situations, so what?"

"And for the more intimate meetings?"

He grinned. "I could easily write a private room into Sandrine's or a cabana in that beach program. But if you come over for a movie, or we have dinner in your quarters, nobody needs to know what we're having for dessert. Unless you think Chakotay has planted listening devices in your bedroom."

"Don't make me paranoid," she said, swatting his arm.

"Look, all I'm saying is we should enjoy each other. We can't stop gossip. But as long as we don't skulk round, or act guilty about our relationship, they won't have any evidence."

"Thomas, you're a sneak."

"Only for noble purposes. And by the way, don't forget to take your favorite pilot along on away missions."

"If at all possible," she said. "You know I can't cut you any slack. I do expect you to follow orders."

"Can't get out of Sick Bay shifts, eh?" She shook her head and he laughed. "It's all right … I know the job comes first."

He leaned in and kissed her neck. "I do have conditions."  
She gave him an _"uh, oh"_ look. "Like …?"

"Like we make sure to spend some off-duty time together every day. Even if it's just an hour or so to talk and cuddle a bit."

"You know there will be things I can't talk to you about."

"Yes, and there will be things I can't or won't talk to _you_ about. My friends deserve some privacy."

"Agreed," she said quickly.

"Second, permission to sneak a kiss in the turbolifts or in the Ready Room."

"And here's my condition: We keep things professional on duty, and especially on Deck 1, which includes the Ready Room."

"So if you're working late, I can't come by to kiss you goodnight?"

She just chuckled. "That I'll consider. Otherwise, no."

"Turbolifts?"

"Yes, though, shall we say, timing is critical. And please don't sabotage a lift with the idea of having sex in it. "

"Why not?"

"There are no showers in the lifts. And if you don't follow me, go look at the sheets," she said suggestively as he actually blushed.


	5. Well, It's a Bit Delicate

They — and Kathryn's packages — beamed aboard to find Tuvok waiting for them.

"How are we doing, Tuvok?" Kathryn asked, snapping back into Captain mode.

"I regret to say that we are behind in cataloging and storing supplies. A few members of the crew, including Commander Chakotay, were taken ill last night, so we were unable to complete the inventory."

"Are they all right?"

"The Doctor says they will all make a complete recovery and should return to duty tomorrow," he said.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure Mr. Paris and I can lend a hand. Give us time to drop our bags and change."

In the lift, Kathryn called for Deck 2, winking at Tom and putting a finger to her lips before she tapped her communicator.

"Doctor, I understand several crew members have taken ill. Are we looking at some sort of highly contagious disease?"

"No, Captain, we are not; the disease should be easily contained. However, it _is_ something I'd like to talk with you about."

She sighed. "Can it wait? I need to help with the inventories; I'm told those illnesses put us behind."

"I believe it can wait until tomorrow, Captain."

"Thank you Doctor. Let me know if you get a sudden spike of cases or anything unusual."

"What do you think?" Tom asked as she keyed in her access code.

"Not sure … I assume you're feeling OK?"

"I'm fine," he assured her as they deposited the packages on the table. "You?"

"Great," she said as she embraced him. "Thank you, dearest. It was a wonderful weekend," she said as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Hmmm, I agree, and it's just the start," he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. Think we can put off helping with inventory for a bit?"

"No," she groaned. "And I need to comm Chakotay to see how he's feeling." She slid out of his embrace, but kept a hand on his chest. "Tell you what, when we're finished, let's try some of our 'wedding present' with a couple of those pastries we bought."

"Then dessert?"

"Absolutely," she chuckled.

**XXX**

"All right, Doctor, what is the story on these illnesses?" Kathryn announced as soon as she hit Sick Bay. Her grumpiness was mostly for show, Tom noted; she gave him a quick wink as he cleaned instruments.

"Well, it's a bit delicate, Captain," he said, ushering her into his office. Tom stepped closer to get in earshot; not that he didn't already have an idea.

"It seems," he said quietly, "that some members of the crew didn't get permission before indulging in … sexual relations … while on Kohlin. I've treated a few cases of a sexually-transmitted disease. While it is easily treated, I cannot be sure of the extent that the disease has spread."

"Well, the need for permission does fall under personnel, which is Commander Chakotay's area." An odd look crossed the Doctor's face, telling Kathryn more than she wanted to know.

"I assume there's some protocol for calling in everyone who spent time on the ..." She stopped and looked down; the Doctor appeared to be scanning _her_.

The Doctor looked up to see his captain glaring at him. "Find anything?"

"No, Captain. You're fine," he said, quickly pulling the scanner behind his back. "Considering how hard it is to get you in for a physical, I like to take advantage of any opportunity."

"Uh, huh," Kathryn said with a look that read _"Bull!"_

"Say, Doc, my shift is over; I'm heading out," Tom said as he walked toward the door.

"Er, certainly, Mr. Paris," he replied. Tom had to suppress a grin; the Doc obviously was wishing that the Captain would follow him out.

He was waiting for her next to the lift. "You're lucky," he said as they got in. "He was a lot less polite about scanning me."

Kathryn just shook her head. The Doctor's slip certainly explained Chakotay's sudden illness. Now _that_ was a bit of info she was going to file away.

She relaxed a bit and looked over at Tom. "I assume, my dear, that since I checked out, you did as well."

"Of course," he said with mock outrage. "I'm a happily married man."

"Oh, you're going to rue that statement some day," she teased.

"Doubt it," he chuckled before he quickly kissed her.

"So, has anyone gotten sick from Neelix's cooking today?"

"Nope; I hear he's using the food from Kohlin."

"Well, in that case," she said just before the doors opened. "Care to join your wife for lunch?"

"Always," he said as they walked into the Mess Hall, heads held high.


End file.
